


The Way Back

by the_blue_fairie



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22640626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_blue_fairie/pseuds/the_blue_fairie
Summary: Elsa is injured on one of her treks with Honeymaren. The two of them help each other and grow closer as they journey slowly and steadily back to camp.
Relationships: Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney), elsamaren - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75





	The Way Back

Ever since she was a child, Honeymaren loved the early morning.

She loved getting up while everyone else was still asleep.

It was exciting to her.

She could go anywhere – and no one could stop her. No one was there to wag a finger at her. No one was there to say, “Little Maren, you should be getting some sleep.”

One time, Yelena was there, and little Honeymaren jumped and braced herself for a scolding. But the old woman did not rouse the camp. Her lips simply crinkled into a bemused smile.

From that point on, there was an understanding between the two of them.

(But still, little Honeymaren loved the idea of outmaneuvering the old woman. She loved the idea of tiptoeing so softly that Yelena never woke up, even with her keen ears. It made the little girl feel Skillful and Important. So, she still tried to be cheerfully sneaky, and was proud of herself when she passed Yelena’s tent without her noticing. At least, Maren, in her childish pride, assumed Yelena didn’t notice. Who knew the countless times the old woman looked out from the flap of her tent, smirking, and simply let the child roam?)

It was a trait Honeymaren kept with her to adulthood.

Even now, she loved being an early riser. She loved stepping into a quiet world, ready for adventure.

She loved the early morning grey, the way it changed now with the sun.

In childhood, the fog had shrouded all.

Her adventures met their ends at the edge of the Forest.

Now, the grey gave way to the gold of the true morn. The sunlight shimmered on the trees.

Now, Honeymaren could go anywhere.

But she did not go alone.

Hand in hand with Elsa, she went – and Yelena let them go, chuckling to herself within her tent.

_Like children, the both of them_ , Yelena thought to herself. _And why not? Did they not both have their childhoods stolen from them? One lost in a fog, the other lost in a fog of the heart? Let them run! Dear girls… Let them have their little mischief._

They could be gone for great sprawls of time, but no one worried. They’d always be back again, beaming.

Sometimes, Yelena would find Ryder gone with them, but he’d often find his way back earlier – not from lack of spirit, but because he wanted to simply… let them be.

Let them be, together.

For they ran together as clearly as clear water and whenever they returned – Honeymaren on a reindeer, Elsa on the water-smooth back of the nokk – there was such a flush of life in both their faces.

The togetherness did them good, everyone mused, just as much as the adventure.

Perhaps that was why Honeymaren still took to sneaking away in the quiet mornings, Yelena reflected. So that none but Elsa might be in her company. So that she and Elsa could have this time alone, doing whatever they may have fancied. Together.

Gentle whispers rustled through the camp, but Elsa and Maren seemed oblivious. Did they know what everyone else could see? Perhaps not, but they wanted time, and needed time, and in time, their hearts would whisper to them more gently than any a gossiping tongue.

_Childhood innocence blossoms into the sweetness of youth_ , Yelena thought to herself. _Here are two seedlings stunted by the pain of the past, finally feeling the sun upon them. Let them have their childhood again, if it can be called again, and they will settle into fullness, twining around each other like the most delicate of flowers._

_Give them time._

So, everyone gave them time, settled into the gentle routine of finding them gone and coming back hours, sometimes days later with grand stories to tell.

No one thought much of it.

It was a day like any other when they ventured out. Elsa wanted to go far out, to breathe the free air as she never had before.

Living years in a closed room, in a closed palace, had stifled her.

To see the sky go on limitlessly, limitlessly like the sea.

To see the sun in all its brilliance like a white jewel among sapphire.

To breathe the rich air, richer than the sweetest palace wine.

Free.

It emboldened her.

Emboldened her to surge forth on the nokk almost to the golden slopes of the mountains, made her reckless because there was a freedom in recklessness after being so long confined, even if in recklessness –

“Oof!”

“Elsa!”

Honeymaren’s scream rang out.

She saw Elsa falling.

Maren’s reindeer reared.

Elsa on the ground – eyes fixed on Maren tumbling…

Into the softest cushion of snow Elsa could conjure…

Maren rose from the soft puffs of snow in the midst of the summer heat, blinking.

Elsa had told Maren of her childhood, of the accident, of course…

Maren thought how swiftly and skillfully Elsa had used her powers here.

Almost on instinct, and she had protected her companion.

How far she had come…

But… oh, Elsa…

There Elsa was, crumpled on the ground, foot twisted.

Always ready to save others at the expense of herself.

Honeymaren rushed forward.

“Els,” she breathed. “Els, are you okay? Els?”

Elsa lifted her eyes and looked at Honeymaren, saw that she was unscathed, and oh, the _softness_ that came into her face.

Maren’s safety almost made her forget the pain, for pain there was.

“Oh, oh my gosh, Elsa. Here, let me help you.”

Honeymaren raised Elsa’s leg lightly, delicately. Elsa winced, but Maren’s hands were feather-gentle.

Soft. Smooth as cream.

She took her scarf and wrapped it gently, making sure not to make Elsa wince too much more – bound it snugly about Elsa’s foot.

“Thank you,” Elsa murmured.

Her voice was soft as the sugar-snow on a postcard mountain peak.

“Can you walk?”

Maren pulled Elsa up, letting her rest her upper body against her – Elsa let out a jagged breath that might not have been from the pain, but in the soft tenseness of the moment neither noticed – and hopped forward.

Maren’s eyes turned to the nokk, majestic as the scimitar-curve of a wave.

It would let none but Elsa touch her.

“Easy there, easy,” Maren gasped.

“It’s alright,” Elsa said to the nokk, and the lightning-flash-upon-the-sea in its eyes dimmed.

Honeymaren managed to get Elsa upon the water-spirit’s back.

Both women knew that the nokk was faster than a tidal wave, but it could not surge so now – not with Elsa in this condition.

It was going to be a long, slow journey back home.

Maren wondered when the Northuldra would begin to fear for them.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a story a while back where Honeymaren fell, but wasn't injured. I know this premise is similar, but a familiar premise can be taken in new and tender directions. I hope you enjoy and please tell me what you think!


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